


A Thousand Winds

by ninjababypowpow



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: AU, Angst, Bittersweet, M/M, Warlock!Brian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:24:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjababypowpow/pseuds/ninjababypowpow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian does not understand what he offers a creature as lively, as <em>lovely</em> and bright, as Ross, but he is greedy - has always known that about himself, hoarding knowledge in his tower like a dragon covets his gold - and he does not ask the question, just takes that love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Winds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cottonstones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonstones/gifts).



> Title is from a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Do not stand at my grave and weep  
> I am not there. I do not sleep.  
> I am a thousand winds that blow.  
> I am the diamond glints on snow.  
> I am the sunlight on ripened grain.  
> I am the gentle autumn rain.  
> When you awaken in the morning's hush  
> I am the swift uplifting rush  
> Of quiet birds in circled flight.  
> I am the soft stars that shine at night.  
> Do not stand at my grave and cry;  
> I am not there. I did not die. 

Brian’s life had always been about facts. Gathering knowledge for knowledge’s sake is a solitary experience, but it suits him well. He’d never felt lonely, surrounded in his tower by the greatest minds of the past and their discoveries, thoughts and experiences. The only human contact he has is the son of the closest village’s miller, a peasant boy named Ross. He delivers Brian’s meals and deals with most of the things that would mean Brian having to interact with the outside world and taking time off his studies.

It is almost a miracle that Brian would ever even truly notice Ross, but he does. And he finds himself lost, all of a sudden, because he cannot comprehend this mystery before him. Brian understands facts, even mysteries because a mystery is merely a fact not yet caught, nothing more. The weight of a star, the bottom of the nothing, the precise way life curves to spin magic. All of these are mysteries for a time only, until they are caught and pinned to paper like a butterfly trapped in a net.

But why then does he follow the boy around his tower with his eyes and calculate the flow of his spine, the myriad of colors in his hair when the sunlight streaming through one of the high windows hits it, the way he smiles when a simple apparatus in Brian’s laboratory moves or makes an unexpected sound. No matter how much Brian learns about Ross, the boy remains an unsolved question and Brian realizes to his own confusion that he wants it to stay that way.

Love is a mystery, and Brian is a scholar by nature. He should detest this ungainly emotion. But he finds himself embracing it instead, helpless before those eyes that can not actually be, but still are, the color of the sky at noon, when the sun shines the brightest.

The bigger mystery, perhaps, is that Ross loves him back.

Brian does not understand what he offers a creature as lively, as _lovely_ and bright, as Ross, but he is greedy - has always known that about himself, hoarding knowledge in his tower like a dragon covets his gold - and he does not ask the question, just takes that love.

And according to his Ross, he gives just as much. Brian almost calls this out as a lie, for he rarely smiles, not even at or for Ross. But Ross insists, gives a hundred small ways Brian shows his love, and then a hundred more.

"You don't need to smile with your mouth; I can see it in your eyes just as well." Ross says and then laughs, bright as a bell, when Brian releases the thousand butterflies made of light and air and color that he spend all night preparing, just to hear that laugh, just to see Ross spin around the workshop in wonder.

\--

And then, one day, Ross gets sick.

It is a sudden development, and Brian curses himself now, because he was so distracted. He cannot be sure that that fateful day was truly the start of this path, or if there were earlier signs that he did not see, did not notice in his daily quest to make Ross smile.

His failure may as well cost Ross his life, and if his Ross dies, what use is there for anything?

It happens so fast after this. Ross gets tired so quickly these days. He still smiles and laughs, but he needs to sit down often, and sometimes Brian catches him rubbing at his arms as if he were perpetually cold.

It is like death himself tugs Ross down this cursed path, away from Brian, and he rages against it, reads every book he has on death and sickness, as Ross grows weaker, and weaker and weaker.

Soon, he can not get up from bed, sleeping half the day away, losing weight and life more quickly than Brian can come up with treatments. He feels like Ross’s life is running through his fingers like sand, and no matter what he does, he cannot keep it.

And then, one day, Ross’s smiles stop.

The workshop is quiet now, as Brian works silently and Ross sleeps on, and yet only grows more tired. He feeds his love, holding Ross’s hands for hours at a time between Brian’s bigger ones to warm them, but aside from those hours spend at Ross's bedside, all Brian does is look for an answer, for a rescue.

He can’t live without Ross – doesn’t want to – and he’d do anything to make it doesn’t come to pass that he has to. The answer lies in a small book, bound in dark blue leather. It promises knowledge, necessary knowledge.

And what is a fragment of his soul's worth if it means he can cure Ross?

One hour of unimaginable pain later, Brian _knows_. He knows it's not going to be that easy, but he already offered one fragment. What is one more? Or two? Or even three?

He knows this has changed him. He does not feel much these days, his thirst for knowledge of all kinds slaked, because there is a much more important power to be achieved.  
  
The only thing that is a constant is his love for Ross, which never vanishes or dwindles down, a candle burning bright and steady in the darkness. He will cure Ross. He is so close to it, with Ross secure in the sealed off room keeping him alive, and Brian has no mercy left for anybody trying to stop him. To keep him from saving his love.

Only one more step on his path to power and he can do it, he knows it. One more step and Ross will regain his health, and they will be together again in the workshop that was once filled with light and laughter. The workshop that is empty now, and dark, for Brian knows it isn't right to do his work in there. Those walls will not be tainted. They will never know tears, or blood.

One more step and they will be...

What was the word?

Ah, yes.

They will be _happy_ again.

\--

"How do these guys even come into existence?" Arin sounds gruff as they trek through the muddy paths, straight towards the tower looming in the distance. "I mean, is there an evil warlock academy or something?"

Barry snorts, but stays quiet. It's Danny who answers, who always answers Arin's rambled thoughts.

"Maybe they're just born from circumstance. I mean-"

"What? Like- 'Dear diary, today I stubbed my toe, so I decided to become evil and kill everybody.'"

They joke and laugh, but it's fake. They know it themselves, it’s a way to keep their spirits up, to keep from despair. They've tracked the Warlock for a week now, after they had arrived at the last town too late.

The tower itself is not what they expected. Arin expected an evil lair, outside mirroring the evils within. Instead it seems almost normal, if not for the fact that they are the only living thing around it for miles. If not for the perpetual rain, as if the skies themselves are weeping over the structure.

It is also empty.

The first three floors are dark, obviously used for storage. The next one is clearly used for someone to sleep in, but it is just as empty. There is sound above them. Movement. They finally found him. It’s going to end soon.

The next floor is a nightmare.

Danny retches, just so manages to cover his mouth. Arin takes a deep breath in shock and gags as well. Only Barry remains silent, as if he saw this carnage before, and he had - they'd found him as the only survivor in the first town ever attacked by this Warlock, kneeling there, rocking the body of his wife in his arms.  
  
He hadn't spoken since.

The worst thing - Arin has to reorder that thought, because there are so many worst things in this slaughterhouse of a room - but somehow, still, the worst thing is that the Warlocks looks absolutely normal.

Almost plain, except for his eyes.

If they had met on the road, Arin would have greeted him, maybe inquired about the path to come, and then promptly forgotten the stranger.

The Warlock is bend over a book when they enter the room, and he doesn't look up, reading aloud, gaze moving between the lines in the book and the still beating heart in his hand, pulsing with a deep green light.  
  
The heart in his hands is small.

Just as the body lying at his feet.

The smart thing would be to attack him now, while he is distracted. Unfortunately, Arin doesn't always believe in doing the smart thing. He does, however, believe in doing the right thing. The Warlock does not even react to his shouted warning at first.

"Go away. I am busy." The words are rough, but distracted, almost bored.

Danny's hand clenches around his weapon. He repeats Arin's call in a harsher voice, and finally the Warlock reacts properly. The light around the heart fades and the whole thing goes up in flames, disappearing completely.

The Warlock turns around. His movements are slow and deliberate, and he seems weighted down, somehow, as if he was tired.

"I said go away. I'm almost done."

He doesn't look worried, or frightened by the odds of three against one, only annoyed.

The fight is...short. His movements remain sluggish, slow, but still the Warlock doesn’t betray any fear, not even when they begin to corner him, forcing him to retreat backwards. He still manages to surprise them, however, when he flees upstairs

It is so unexpected that the three of them just stare at each other for precious seconds before giving chase, up the tower.

Barry's crossbow bolt - the tip covered in silver, enchanted with runes - hits the Warlock in the back at the next flight of stairs, and he stumbles, almost falls. Catches himself on the wall and hurries along. They move cautiously through the empty laboratory, wary for traps, but all they find is dust. This place is clean, and hasn't been used in years, it seems. It is like a gate to a past unknown to them.

The next floor is also the last. The warlock leans heavily against a bookcase, pulling out old tomes hurriedly with no regard to their condition.

It is time to end this.

The Warlock curses at them even while he still plunders the bookcase.

"You FOOLS! You don't know what you're doing. You have to let me finish this!"

Arin is the one who finishes it with one last slash.

The Warlock sinks to the ground, a last breath - and what sounds like a name - escaping him before he stops moving. They stand over the body in silence. None of them are able to shake the sense of unease. The sense that something is wrong.

So they all jerk in surprise at the sound of a quiet click, looking to the door they ignored before. The strangely glowing seal on it fades slowly and disappears completely.  
It's Dan who steps forward, cautiously reaching out to touch the handle and looking at the others, waiting for their nod before he moves to push the door open.

It is...a bedroom.

A small, comfortable bedroom, empty save for a single occupant. A young boy, lying in bed, sleeping peacefully, without a care in the world.

Even as they watch, however, his breathing grows slower, more labored. He seems to fade in front of their eyes, his skin losing its previously healthy glow, becoming pale and wan, like a wax statue held under running water for too long.

The boy opens his eyes, and even this seems to cost him a great deal of strength. They are his most striking feature, the color of the sky at noon, bright and lively, but they grow dim as he searches the room, seemingly looking for someone.

And not finding them.

He makes a small noise, a name it seems, sounding lost and frightened.

\--

Suddenly a warm gust of air moves past the three knights, making them turn in surprise. It gently blows the hair away from the boy's forehead, like a caress, and the boy smiles and with a last sigh

_peacefully dies._

 

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> [08:31:16] ninjababypowpow: OKAY BUT WHAT IF  
> [08:31:26] ninjababypowpow: PREPARE FOR PAIN  
> [08:31:28] ninjababypowpow: MAYBE  
> [08:31:30] ninjababypowpow: I DUNNO  
> [08:31:39] ninjababypowpow: I'M MAKING THIS UP AS I GO ALONG  
> [08:31:45] ninjababypowpow: SO PICTURE THIS  
> [08:33:02] Keenveins: I'M PREPARED SOMEWHAT


End file.
